


The Lost Episode: A Missing Story Of The Odyessy

by OliviaKenobi



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology
Genre: Greek Mythology - Freeform, Homer - Freeform, The Odyessy, the illiad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2017-02-09
Packaged: 2018-09-23 04:35:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9640985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OliviaKenobi/pseuds/OliviaKenobi
Summary: This was an English assignment, I'm just posting on here for fun. Please give feedback, both positive things and constructive criticism.





	

     From the island of Lady Calypso with shores of whitest sand, my craft took me where the gruesome Loredath lives, high in his mountain caves of silver, on the island of russet shores. Golden-faced dawn shimmered on Poseidon’s domain on the morning I landed upon the Loredath’s island, glittering in such a glorious way I hadn’t felt since times on cragged Ithaca. Triumph filled my heart, for though alone and on strange land, times with comrades and lovely Penelope sang in my head. These happy thoughts, mixed with the appealing beach and my exhausted body, caused me to take a rest.  
    His journey nearly finished, Helios was shining red when I finally arose from my slumber. Hungry and yearning for water to quench my desert throat, I headed inland. I discovered berries, nuts, and fruits, and then ate them with great relish after offering some to the gods. By the time my foraging was completed, the blanket of sky was dark; and though my craft could be slept upon if tied to the land, I decided against it. Better to collect more food than to leave this plentiful and alluring island now, I thought. The danger of savage beast or people, while nagged at my mind, never took hold, my want of supplies drowning it out, and I decided to sleep on the russet beach.  
    As a spring of water will spout up, after being trapped inside the earth and hungry to be let out, with ecstatic bounce and gurgle of life, filled with want to travel, just so did I get up that fateful morning, eager to explore the island of russet shores once more. Midday, I came to a rushing emerald river, and, knowing the strength of my legs would carry me, I hastily leaped over, my aim the other side next to a tree of dark leaves where the ground was softest. But my foot snagged on a small stone, and I landed with a sickening snap of my leg, the sound like a stick being broken for firewood. Underneath the tree of dark leaves, I tended to it, my earlier excitement fading away as throbbing pain took its place. Then, a screaming pain: the fullest sense of hurt to ever touch man. It ran, not only through my leg, but every bit of my being, spreading through as wine will with water if poured into, soaking into my body with such force that spots of black appeared in my eyes until my world finally went into an inky darkness as thick as Night herself.  
***After many days of slowly healing my leg, it seemed strong enough to endure travelling with a staff, and so I made one out of a branch from the tree with dark leaves. My limp was small, and I had enough food and also some water to supply my craft for a good time, but I refused to leave, pushing it off, for never before had I seen such an emerald river, and I had to discover its source, explore it further.  
    The day had come and gone by the time I had found where the emerald river was sourced: a strange obsidian rock with water gurgling up from below, in the depths of the earth, next to an enormous cave of the same rock and laced with silver, a beautiful and foreboding sight. Right after I arrived, out of the cave came the massive Loredath, growling a rumble that echoed threateningly in the cave walls, his mouth open and showing rows of keen and deadly obsidian fangs. He unsheathed claws the same color as his teeth, but that crackled with lightning like that of Zeus’s bolt. His legs, iron they were made of, and his thick coat was etched with fiery red and obsidian lines. And above all were his eyes, golden bronze and blazing, the type to not only look into your soul but burn it with a hateful stare and crumble it to ashes. All these I noticed the moment before he charged, shaking the earth with each stride that reverberated his purpose to kill me, the trespasser on his land.  
***Oh, how I wished to run, run far away and with the great speed that I possessed, but my injured leg held me back. I had to settle for a quick hobble with my fashioned staff while the savage beast pounded at my heels and exhaled hot breathes of menace onto my neck, until I reached a little cave, across the emerald river, small and cramped but safe compared to any other place on this hostile island of the Loredath. The beast followed closely behind, but hesitated at the river and chose the easiest place to cross, careful not to wet his legs, a decision I carefully noted. Outside the cave, the Loredath held vigil, his plan to keep me holed up until the need for food or water drove me out, straight into his dark, lightning claws. But I, Odysseus, would not settle for such a death, and worked out a simple but effective plan in my small cave.  
     Golden-faced dawn arrived as I sat near the entrance; holding in my hands a few bleached bones of rodents whose lives had ended where mine had been saved. I tossed them out, away from the emerald river and into some thorny bushes. The Loredath heaved himself up and lumbered over to where they landed, deep and thick in the thorns. With great haste I hobbled to the river and jumped in, swam to the center of it, and moved downstream with the current. Angrily, the Loredath changed direction and hurried towards me, but did not enter the rushing river. Instead, he dashed alongside, growling and roaring in outrage. When we arrived where the river met the sea and I spotted my craft, I began to laugh heartily at the beast, scornfully, as I relished my victory. I shouted to him, “Loredath, defeated you have been, but not by force. Your claws could not snare me; your eyes had no ill affect on me. The iron legs of yours, powerful they must be, but not up to the emerald waters and my wit!”  
     The Loredath snarled and made a last attempt move, a swipe at my back that reached it just barely, but was enough to burn my skin and send lightning surging through my body. I felt so drained that, after I reached my craft with my last bit of strength and pushed off, I collapsed in tired slumber.

**Author's Note:**

> *** it wasn't letting me indent there for some reason, sorry


End file.
